


That Boy Laughing

by The Ghosts (rcs)



Category: Ragnarok Online
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-07
Updated: 2011-04-07
Packaged: 2017-10-17 17:21:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/179201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rcs/pseuds/The%20Ghosts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soft spots are hard to guard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Boy Laughing

There are two days of the year, one in early winter and one in late summer, on which Halloween is sure to arrive at the guild gates. You could set your watch by this. He shows up early, looking better groomed than he ever does after return trips -- no layer of dust, no lipstick smears, no fresh bruises in the shape of drain pipes or boots -- and he always has one package that is set aside from the usual trinkets and sweets. He guards it better than those too, quick to snake it away from muddy, wandering mitts with a click of his tongue and a cheeky, keep away smirk. He'll even side-step their fearsome leader, if it comes to that -- and side-stepping Miru is neither a wise nor easy path. It's a worthwhile bother though, worth fending off the horde all day, tooth and nail and occasionally spurs, until the tired, sunburnt Ranger or the chilled, sore Rune Knight returns to find the beautifully wrapped box and the idiot holding it out, almost shy.

For Cessair, he picks simple metal. Hairpins or earrings in pewter, doves and doe. He long ago figured out she doesn't need glitter and gems to shine, nor does she want for it. Baubles that won't look out of place while she picks a beast off at eighty paces is what he aims for.

For Sellys, he picks stones and delicate silver lattices. Necklaces and bracelets and all the things she would question buying herself. He imagines she'll think it's a joke of his, but he knows best how men eye the curve of her neck, even in all her leathers and plate. He hunts for what can only improve that radiance of hers when the redhead coaxes her into a satin dress and they head out into the night.

He'll laugh the gift off as nothing special, perhaps weaving a story about it being the the penance of a night with a jeweler's daughter. The truth is always one of him scowering a city, going through merchant after merchant's wares until he found the one thing that reminded him of those faraway girls. He won't tell this story because it's not very him and he has a reputation to think about, but he'll go through it twice a year with no qualms. Just a smile, a handful of coins and a wish for another year.


End file.
